£500 LOST BY A DREAM.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 4289, 23 February 1901, Page 3 (Supplement)

£SOO LOST BY A DREAM.

..Ml HOW OTHKIib HAVE DEE AMi;l> too. GCXTL-i'i "KACkImS'” LITTLE btiMKbTl HONS. (■■DAp.itcir ."special.) ‘J he other dry in ti.c Cankruptcy Court a debtor ex-ikimed ho-.v lie in:el Jo-*, A/v! o\ (.-!• backing a i.-r-i; which he saw win a. c.-nam race in a. di -tail Well, betlXig on -o h "infornratran.' or imorraation equally had, is by no i).i-:ui- nncoii:men. Tii-, laic Lord \ iviiai had a dream that a hor.-.e called -Teacher won the Ci'.,,- and Kni’iurbau of l.b'J. Vv’lien a man dreura- oi winneis he usually ;;y----arrivos at tin' conciu-iiiu tiiao a bi-nt.-licic.it dispensation is putt-iug him in a position to exploit his feilovv-mau out Ui IL, 1 ) I’rTlw'.iy

So was it upon the occasion in question, and like a j'haraoh of old his "‘spirit wax troubled.”

,[u i-onsoqueuce of his port urbatmn he discus-ed manors wiiii his friends generally, among others Lord Kosobery, Now Lie "T’rira.use Earl,” altliough no Joseph at that period, not having iK'di a Prime -Minim r was equal to that rcca-

"_\Jy horse Aldrich was former!;,’ cahed IV; a cii „r, : ' he said, "'but i can hardly advise yon to hack 'lira.'

‘■Hook and Eye,” lor such was Lord Vivian's nickname, owing possibly lo his pertinacity, was not to be chilled oil his fancy, but wen! -traighlway "and booked 1000 to 10 twice. How Ahlricn carried the primrose and rose hoops i f the Lari to victory after a desperate finish is a matter of Turf history. -Movbey, who rode him in an aC'stic finish, could 101 l us all about it, and, by the same, token, this roiniucls ivs that the said Air .Morbey i- now a groat landowner down Jinxing way, and the (.-atron of pro or three livings in the Church, vvliieii shows the advantage of riding winners.

Here, however, we must give pause. The present writer dreamed that he was silting iu his rooms, ami a friend entered "who made the rcraaik, “I suppose you know St. Galien will win the Deru.y y’ Tins was on the .Sunday preceding Hie race for the Blue llibinul of 188 A. On the following day the friend entered the writer’s rooms, just with the sa-iue action that he had done in the dream, and ma<ic the identical speech that he had done “in the pallid realms of sleep-’ Straightway tho writer interviewed a bookmaker and took sixteens to win and fours for a place St. Gaticn. St. Gatien did not win, neither diet he lose, as he ran a dead- heat with Harvester.

Agaiu, previous to tiio decision of the Cosarewitch in that year, tbo writer dreamed that ,St. Gatieu had won tl>e race, and that Sir lieu hen's name appeared on the number board at Newmarket as tiie winner of tlie Cambridgeshire. Accordingly ho took a doubleevent bet to win ±!2OOU. After St. Grtien bad won the Cesarewitch in a canter, prudent friends quoted the adage that a. bet is never a 'good befc until it is well hedged, but the writer was too undefeated a sportsman to bo guided by such wise counsels at the time, so lie stood it out and lost as money, as Air John Hammond’s Florence created u record by carrying fV>t Jib to victory. The loss of the money, however, was not half the shock that was conveyed by tiie dream "coming unglued,” as I lie boys say. We recollect a gentleman who wrote persistently to the sporting newspapers informing all and Singular that his wile had in a. ciream seen a grey' horse win the Derby. As suon an ev6ut has never occurred, and as many thought it was about time tor a grey to get homo first, the animal, whose name escapes ns at the moment, was well backed, but tailed to finish, in the first three. The cynics then said the prophet lumpiest ion must have been betting against the horse, but as the husband of the fair dreamer only know enough about horses to tell which end wont first tbo supposition was incorrect. Indeed, to tiie initiated such is apparent on the face of it, as none but a. now hand would lime adopted the course. Your experienced turfite has usually worn out the superstition of signs and coincidences, which, bo it added, a life of excitement is sure to engender. _ It may not ho known to the uninitiated that there is stid a superstition among some of the faithful at Newmarket aneut the fate Fred Archer. As the reader probably’ recollects, the unfortunate jockey .shot himself, with a revolver presented to him Jiy one of bis best' friends," during a fit of delirium brought about by fever. The fact of so tragic an end, in which the gift of an intimate friend played so prominent a part, -was enough for the mystery-mon-gers, so that covtaip of the superstition:''believe that on stormy nights, when black clouds occasionally obscure thtglimpses of the moon, the groat horseman, ‘‘in such questionable shape,” comes and rides his races over again.

Such appearances are said to bo more frequent immediately preceding Hie Houghton gathering at Newmarket; as not only was poor Fred Archer "aid to have been a heavy loser over the big race, but wasted very hard in order to reduce himself to weight. Furthermore, never having ridden a. winner of the Cambridgeshire, he coveted to add it to his other successes; and had the mortification of being beaten, after riding a wonderful race, by “Tiny” White on The Sailor Prince.

11l the Birdcage, before the race, lie ■was confident, but looked terribly ill. ‘•Archer looks like a corpse,” said a friend to the writer; yet ho qvas confident, and laughing said, ‘T shall win. and can then build up and have a bit of hunting!” If a ghostlike presentment had the appearance of poor Archer after the race it would be calculated to strike terror into most believers in supernatural visitations, as chagrin and- loss of money upon » terrible fast and the weakening effect of Turkish baths had even then written death upon Ids' face. Let me add that there was an old gentleman at IS'cwnaarket, now dead, who was wont to insist that whenever the wraith appeared the top-weight was to win a coming groat handicap at headquarters. Wo wonder whether the ghostly presentment of the old gentleman in question is to be seen book and pened in band “backing his fancy” with the shades cf the departed leviathian of the ring, and whether, when the race is over, instead of the babel of tlje flesh-clad layers of odds they bear “a loud horse-laugh up i:i the air!” betokening that the favourite, steered by the great horseman, has “got home” again! All the foregoing, however, is such stuff as dreams are made of. Taken on the average, all but the professional gamblers are apt to go to work in so haphazard a fashion that they usually lose. Furthermore, it can bo safely asserted that far mors fortunate gamblers die in want than in affluence, and this because, as they phrase it mystically, ■‘the luck has turned'’ and “they cannot do rigid.” “I hope you enjoyed your luncheon,” said an old-time gambler to the writer a few days back. "I saw you go in and waited. Lend me sixpence to go home with? Queer, isn’t it? I won £20,000

over the Waterloo Cup one© aud now ■ X have to barrow sixpence.'’ ; Jlut is this an ideated case? Not by ! any means. Winning by gambling is nub to be ensured by the greatest circumspection. It is .-afeq to be a- book- ! inuker than a backer, generally spe-ak-j mg, bu* the .sportsman ju»t- menuemed j who borrowed tho sixpence was a booicj The boy who was prompted to he not ! afraid of work im cause ire could lie down , and go to sleep beside it at any time l uiucn rcHimbk-o sumo oi :1m average i punhc-nuiise uequeutors wiio go rn j with a vie a- i o having a drink and a bet. There is this dihemicc. however —the j sleep-loving youth dees nof. evuluie the j nerve racket which falls to tho lot of the boozing bettor. JJi-ltir.g is not werk m ill:; stru t .-oiisc of tne word, but its pursuit usually unfits a man for any other ! form of labour. The endeavour to oh- ; tain infotnuuion, “looking up he form” I of horses in lacing guides, calculating I odds and i fiance.,, seeking the book- [ maker to arrange the bet, and the interj val of excitement- helon; the race is dei cidcil. u-.'xdiy precludes the liossibfliiy of attendin.g ;)i'up>crly to anytliiug else, so t!ut the day slips by. win or Jose, without anything else to .show, as a rule. Whether bookmaker or backer wins, the caterer of ;ae.diluents usually benefits, and big wins on cither side generally swell tiie merchant's receipts. The puh!i£:m is of course a victim in Ins tarn, lie happens to be a gambler and possessed of sufficient credulity. There are numbers of loafers frequenting public-houses whoso plan is simplicity itself. Knowing the landlord is fond of a -,;t. they, before a big race, visit, perhaps. a dozen different hostoleries, and, ordering a drink, mysteriously whisper the certain winner or the coining event. To cadi of the )".reive landlords, however they whisper the name of a different horse, keeping careful mental count as lo which horse was assigned to each landlord. Alter the. race they go and sponge upon the landlords to whom they gave first, second miu third horses, and, if possible, condole w the others. The trick is as old as the hills, but still seems to work, more especially if the loafer is well dressed.

AVo once .saw an amusing variation of it, wherein Hie biter was bit.

The landlord of a, prosperous hotel, who was himself a bookmaker, ,was in the habit of betting in his saloon bar with men he knew. It was the St. Loger Day of 1894. Throe rogues plotted a coup, and the landlord was to be the victim of it. Two of thorn were- to bo in the saloon bar, and the third was to wait at a neighbouring club, and' as soon as the winner came up on the tape was to hurry into tho saloon and order a drink.

A code was arranged thus: If Ladas won the clubman was to ask for brandy arid soda ; if Matchbox, whisky aud soda; while Amiable was represented by a glass of sherry, and None the Wiser by bitter. Then one of the seated confederates, who had been in the bar for an hour previously, was to ask the clubman casually whether he knew what had won the Leger, and casually remark that lie had boor told that so-and-so would win aud had forgotten it, and ask the landlord to lay it, trusting that he, knowing that neither had loft the saloon, would have no suspicion of any collusion.

All went well until the club confederate walked in. Ho looked crestfallen, and one of the rascals said jocularly, “Well, that is a pretty face. Come, cheer up. What will you take?” “I won’t take anything. Yes. I’ll take a cigar.” Delighted with this apparent side-play, the other said, “So you shall, if you have a. drink; but you musn’t have one without, the other. How’s the guv’nor to live?” “I tell you I won’t have a dr ink!” This incensed the saloou-resced rascal; added to which lie had imbibed not wisely but too well while waiting for the result. Conceiving that he was being fooled, he darted at the clubman, and, seizing him by the throat, shook him, shouting the while, “Say something now! Which is it, brandy, whisky, sherry, or wkatr 1 ” Incensed by the treatment and the failure of the plot, the victim hit out to free himself, and gasped: “It ain’t none of ’em. Y'ou big thief! Throstle’s won., and it ain’t in the codo!

The trio do not use. that saloon bar now.